


Who Needs a Maid When You've Got Peggy Carter

by EmerySaks7



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 01:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmerySaks7/pseuds/EmerySaks7





	Who Needs a Maid When You've Got Peggy Carter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [muscatmusic18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/muscatmusic18/gifts).



“No, Howard. _No._ ”

Peggy Carter’s voice floated from the library as Angie Martinelli stepped through the front door of the penthouse they shared. After an early morning shift at the L&L, she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to peel off her uniform, slip into something comfortable and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day. From the sound of Peggy’s voice, her morning hadn’t gone so swell either, although her frustration could merely be the byproduct of having to talk to Howard Stark.

Angie shook her head in fond amusement. That man had a talent for getting a rise out of Peggy, and she had a sneaking suspicion he often did it on purpose.

“For the last time, Howard, _no_.”

Angie slipped off her shoes and padded to the library, listening as Peggy’s voice rose in irritation.

“Because we don’t need a maid, Howard. That’s why! It’s not open for debate. Now, _goodbye_!”

Angie heard Peggy slam down the receiver, and Angie chuckled at the disgruntled murmurs that followed. So, Howard wanted to hire a maid for them. _Interesting_. But, she could understand why Peggy would be upset at that suggestion for several reasons, the chief concern being her roommate’s inherent desire for privacy in both her work and personal life. Plus, it had been Peggy who had found the collection of... _questionable_... clothing choices, including a French maid outfit. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't found them in the drawers of her new bedroom. Howard had said he'd forgotten they were there, but one never really knew with him. Regardless, he should have known better. What could have possessed him to make such an offer?

Meanwhile, personally, Angie didn’t think a maid would be so bad. Cleaning was one of her least favorite chores around the house. Give her cooking any day. But dusting? She shuddered. She wondered if she could convince Peggy to let Howard send someone when they were home and could supervise what rooms she cleaned? Maybe she should ask after a dinner of her ma's famous lasagna. Peggy rarely said no to anything Angie suggested when her stomach was full of lasagna. 

With that thought in mind, Angie breezed into the library and grinned. “So Howard wants to give us a maid, huh? Not his best–”

The words died in her throat as Peggy turned around at the sound of her voice and saw what Peggy was wearing. Apparently, the maid conversation wasn’t something Howard sprung on her out of the blue. No, from the looks of it, Peggy had been doing some cleaning of her own while Angie was at work.

That was the only explanation for the snug white tank top currently clinging to her body and the form-fitting green trousers that hugged her hips and legs. She was barefoot, which did absolutely nothing to help Angie’s heart, which had suddenly begun to race, and Peggy’s hair, usually so neatly coifed, was held loosely in place by a red bandana neatly tied around her chestnut curls.

“Angie,” Peggy smiled and her earlier frustration seemed to melt away the sight of her. She placed the rag in her hand on a nearby table and nodded toward the phone. “I was just explaining to Howard we have no need of a maid. Not when half the rooms in this house go untouched.”

Angie tried to say something but found her mouth wouldn’t cooperate, so she merely nodded in agreement.

Seemingly oblivious to Angie’s sudden inability to speak, Peggy blithely continued. “I mean, honestly, it’s not as if you and I can’t maintain the upkeep of a home. I realize we both have busy schedules, but between the two of us, it’s manageable. Don't you think?”

Angie swallowed and finally managed to speak. “R-r-right,” she squeaked and then waved a feeble hand at Peggy’s attire. “So, uh, is that what you plan to wear when we clean?”

Peggy looked down at her clothing for a moment, before raising confused eyes to Angie. “I had planned on it,” she slowly replied. “But if the sight of my Army clothing bothers you, I can always change.”

“No! No! Don’t change,” Angie practically shouted.

Peggy gazed at her in concern. “Angie, darling, are you all right?”

Taking a deep breath, Angie tried to school her voice back to a reasonable level. “Oh yeah. I’m fine. Fine,” she assured her with a vigorous nod. “It was just a long morning. I guess I’m still a little wound up. That’s all.”

“If you’re certain that’s all it is,” Peggy said, seeming to accept her words at face value.

Angie sighed with relief and smiled. “Yep. Everything is fine.” She glanced down at her uniform and wrinkled her nose when she saw the coffee and grease stains covering the front. “I think I’m gonna’ go upstairs and get changed if that’s all right with you. I’ll be back down in a few to help with the chores, okay?" 

Peggy smiled. “That isn’t necessary, darling. You’ve had a long morning. I can finish up.”

“You sure?” Angie asked, skepticism creeping into her voice.

“Of course,” Peggy assured her and then leaned over to pick up several magazines that lay scattered near the couch.

Angie's breath caught and she thought she might have a heart attack right then and there. Peggy’s backside – that delicious backside she’d spent so many hours admiring – was on full display, and it took everything she had not to run over and palm the firm curves that were practically begging for her touch.

“Ah, you know what, Pegs?” she asked, and was horrified at the hoarseness of her voice. “It’s not right for you to be down here doing all the work while I’m up there lounging like a bum.”

“Honestly, Angie, I don’t mind,” Peggy told her, raising up, magazines in hand.

Peggy might not mind, Angie thought, but she certainly did, and there was no way she was going to pass up an opportunity to spend an hour or two in Peggy’s company with her dressed like that. _Absolutely wasn’t gonna’ happen._

“Nope,” Angie said, determination threading her voice. “I’m gonna’ go change, and then I’ll be right back down to help you.”

Peggy gave her a fond smile. “If you insist.”

“I do,” Angie nodded. “I do insist.” Her lips quirked up in a goofy smile, and it took her a minute or two to realize she was staring at Peggy. She felt her cheeks grow warm when Peggy glanced away and pressed her lips together, unsuccessfully hiding her bemused smile.

_Damn it,_ she sighed. She might as well hold up a sign that said _Hi Pegs! I’m violets for you! Wanna’ do a little smooching after we finish dusting?_

Instead, she merely cleared her throat and gave Peggy a bright smile. “Well, okay then. Just gonna’ go change,” she repeated, walking backward to the library entrance.

Peggy grinned. “Yes, I do believe you mentioned that.”

Realizing there was nothing else she could say without sounding like a silly sap, Angie turned a made a beeline for the staircase. She’d just made a fool of herself in front of Peggy Carter, and both she and her roommate knew it. One of these days, she and Peggy were gonna’ have a conversation about the subject they kept tap-dancing around, and if Peggy kept wearing outfits like that, it was gonna’ be sooner rather than later.

But Angie knew that day wasn’t today, and meanwhile, Peggy was waiting for her to join her in the library. Maybe if she was lucky, she could convince Peggy to spend the rest of the day cleaning, and perhaps, if her luck held up, she could devise a few chores that required her friend to bend over every now and then. Angie grinned and bounded up the stairs.

Suddenly, a day of cleaning didn’t seem so bad.


End file.
